The Love of the Young
by Kailey Hamilton
Summary: "I sought your friendship, hoping to offer comfort and wisdom in times of personal distress. I never thought I'd be the one to receive them." After hearing their respective stories of lost love, Albus Dumbledore and young Minerva McGonagall have many things to say to each other. Oneshot based on Pottermore content. MM/AD FRIENDSHIP. Mentions of Albus/Gellert and Minerva/Dougal.


_Disclaimer:__ Recognize it? Not mine._

* * *

**The Love of the Young**

Albus Dumbledore paced the hallways worriedly. He hadn't seen Professor Minerva McGonagall at dinner, and Merlin knew she wouldn't ever miss a meal. He'd even heard the students speculating about her absence.

(_"She chose to morph into a cat and chase mice instead"_ was surely an amusing theory, but it certainly wouldn't be enough to suffice him.)

This kind of joking around was common among students, but when it came to Professor McGonagall it never crossed the line into insolence. It amused him how they'd learned to respect her. She was twenty-one and had been teaching for less than half a year. Yet, all her students understood rather quickly that her lack of experience was not to be mocked, and that her temper was not to be tried.

Albus smiled to himself as he reached his destination. He was sure that she'd be entertained by the students' attitudes. She had been the same way when she'd been in school - she surely respected her elders, but keeping her opinions to herself wasn't her way of showing it.

He opened the door of her classroom. Predictably enough, she was there.

Unpredictably enough, she was crying.

Albus stood there, unsure of what to do. Her figure wasn't the one he'd conjured up in his mind a few seconds earlier. She sat on top of her desk with her legs crossed, one on top of the other, and her robes unceremoniously showed her shins. Her long, black hair fell in waves down her back, which shook wildly with her sobs. She clutched a letter in her delicate hand.

He would've mistaken her for a schoolgirl had she not worn green robes.

It was difficult for him to see her – such a brilliant woman – so grief-stricken. He felt a great affection for her; one he'd hoped would turn into a friendship once they became colleagues.

He didn't have that kind of special bond with any of his ex-students. Minerva had been sorted into his House. He'd made her Prefect, Quidditch Captain and Head Girl. On top of that, she'd come to him for help to become an Animagus and she did such a process under his direct guidance. She'd come to teach in Hogwarts under his direction.

While their relationship never went farther than that of a mentor and his pupil, Albus knew her better than she would've thought comfortable. In many ways, she mirrored his own temper. That's why he knew, without being told, that she only shed tears in moments of great distress.

"Evening, Minerva."

As soon as she'd seen him, she regained her composure. She stood up from her desk and released the parchment she held. Tears still streamed down her face, so she wiped them fiercely and stopped sobbing immediately.

"Evening, Professor," she squeaked rather bleakly.

"Trying to look innocent after being caught _in fraganti_?"

As she hoped, she'd smiled. It was a sheepish smile, but it was better than nothing. It invited him to close the door, walk inside her classroom and take a seat in the first row. She still looked embarrassed, for she avoided his gaze and her voice came out softly.

"I wish you didn't have to see me like this."

"Minerva, I've seen you in more compromising situations. I've seen you with a furry tail, whiskers and claws. I had to take you to the Hospital Wing because you couldn't cough out a ball of fur." Her grin reappeared as she was forced to recall all of her failed attempts at morphing into her Animagus shape. "In the ten years I've known you, you've never been ashamed of anything. Yet, of all the things, it bothers you that I see you crying?"

"Professor, I think you understand better than you're letting me know."

"Of course I do. I just thought that making you smile wouldn't be out of place. Of course, if telling me what troubles you would help more, I'm all ears."

"You won't believe me if I say that it's nothing, so I'll say that I'd rather keep this to myself."

"May I inquire why?" While she liked dealing with her issues on her own, it looked to him as if this time she'd need a little help.

"I'm sure that a wizard like you will think it's trivial."

"Minerva, please take a seat beside me." She still stood awkwardly in front of him, as if she hoped she could get away. "I trust your skills as a teacher, but I doubt this is the right moment for you to give me a lesson."

His sense of humor softened her yet again, for she wordlessly obeyed. She still wouldn't look him in the eye, but it was progress.

"I beg you not to underestimate me," he said. "I've seen you lose half a year's worth of work, when your first attempt at morphing came to nothing. You reacted with optimism and a rather sharp sense of humor. If this is so important for you, then it's not my place to think otherwise."

His words seemed to reassure her enough, as she let out a short sentence.

"My ex-boyfriend is getting married."

Albus was an impressive judge of character, yet he never thought that lost love would be a reason for Minerva McGonagall to cry. Then again, love was the most unpredictable feeling, and it had made _him_ cry longer than he cared to admit.

"I have great reverence for the love of the young. Love is too strong a force for magic to understand, so your pain is not to be underrated. Believe me when I say that I'm very sorry for your heartbreak."

Tears welled up in her eyes again, but as she let them fall quietly, he recognized them as tears of relief.

"Thanks, Professor, for not trying to tell me that it's nothing, or that it will go away with time."

"As I said, I don't treat young love as heedlessly as most people do - it's a common mistake, and one that shows unforgivable forgetfulness. Time can help, but it can only do so much. Can we forget someone we truly loved?"

"I don't know, Professor. You're the one who's lived for almost a century - you tell me."

Oh,_ that_ was the Minerva he knew. She'd always been bold, outspoken, curious and witty, never crossing the line between her admirable traits and rudeness.

He was glad to have her back.

"I might as well," he answered, "but I don't want to bore you with an old man's ramblings."

"Then I suppose you'll find my story quite entertaining, Professor."

Her sarcasm earned her a smile. _She's so much like myself_, he thought. Then he thought he was giving himself too much credit. At twenty-one he hadn't been nearly as sensible as she was. Either way, he recognized in her the isolation that came with a great intellect, the one that had been his downfall when he was young. It had made him prone to be easily impressed when Gellert Grindelwald came along and proved to be just as gifted as he was.

(It said a lot about the love of the young that he still thought of him as _Gellert_. Gellert, the mischievous young man of soft features and a joyous smile. Not _Grindelwald,_ the dark wizard he'd helped him make and single-handedly defeated.)

Minerva didn't need more encouragement. She looked him in the eyes for the first time that evening, and she told him her story of lost love. She spoke heatedly, her reddened eyes twinkling with the feelings that never went away. Even her tone showed a level of excitement that was unnatural in her.

She spoke of her picturesque little town in the north of Scotland. She painted ploughed fields and glorious summer skies. She spoke of her family with affection, and of a very charming farmer with heated love. She conjured up the most idyllic romantic tale he'd ever heard, mentioning words of love, fights and reconciliations.

Then, when she mentioned that she broke the engagement because she couldn't give up her magical identity, she crashed back from the fantastic realm that she'd built for him with her words. To Albus, it felt as he'd just seen the most beautiful flower in the garden wilt within an instant.

"You made the right choice, Minerva." He decidedly told her. "It certainly comes as a shock, having to choose between love and happiness. The fact that you turned your back to something as powerful as love is definitely worth my admiration. That alone makes you wiser than most men and women I know - wiser than I thought you to be, even. Most people allow themselves to get lost in love and to do crazy things in its name." _I know I did_, he mentally added.

She meditated on his words for a few seconds. She seemed to relax, for she let out a heavy sigh and her voice ceased to come out as a broken whisper.

"You needlessly flatter me, Professor, but I'll take it with gratefulness. It amazes me how you're able to summarize and simplify my predicament. Truth is, the choice was very clear to me, and if I could go back I wouldn't change a thing. Yet I find myself crying and I can't help but wonder... I can't help but wonder if I'll ever be happy."

"It's uncommon for you to show such despair and give up hope." He waited for a response. When he didn't get it, he continued. "Happiness is a combination between the choices you make and sheer luck. Only the first criterion depends on you, and as you have a very good head over your shoulders, I believe you're headed the right way."

"I hope you're right." She sighed, looking away. When her stare went back to his eyes, it somehow seemed more intense. "I'm very lucky to have you in my life, Professor. I'm very thankful for your infinite goodness."

His face changed to show sternness. Albus couldn't have her looking up at him as if he was an idol, for he had learned to view her as an equal in spite of her youth and her usual cheekiness.

"Those phrases seem taken from your father's prayer book. I'll have to ask you not to use them again." She cocked her head to one side in a questioning manner, so he explained. "I can stand being placed in a pedestal by almost anyone, but you're one of the exceptions. For one, we're quite similar. There's no positive trait you'll see in me that you won't find in yourself. More importantly, I believe that between the two of us, you're the better person."

"What makes you think that?"

Albus considered his options quite carefully. He didn't like opening up, for his past was way too shameful. But that young woman with the keen eyes had proven to be the perfect audience for his tale, and he found himself _wanting_ her to know.

"Can I tell you my story, Minerva?"

She nodded quietly, so he started talking with an even voice as she watched him intently.

They both had to spend their childhood hiding. She had lived in a muggle community and had tolerated the weight of the Statute of Secrecy much earlier in life than she should have. So Albus talked about Ariana, of how she was attacked, of how she was left with a permanent trauma and the effect this had on his family.

They were both brilliant people who had fallen deeply in love, letting it take away all sense of reality. She still cried, three years later, and while she'd walked away, it still hurt. So Albus talked about his love. He didn't say it was none other than Gellert Grindelwald, but he told Minerva of how he let him take his love and use it against him. How he was drawn to darkness and power, losing all sense of morality, which eventually led to the fatal duel that ended Ariana's life.

"I never knew which one of the three cast the curse that killed her," he said, surprising himself by how easy it was to tell her his biggest fear. "There's a chance I was the one to kill my dear sister. I'll never forgive myself for those events, and I know my brother doesn't, either. I can't truly blame him."

"And what about the girl you loved?" Minerva wanted to know.

He'd omitted Gellert's gender on purpose. Though admitting to homosexuality was nothing compared to admitting to murder, he felt it was an unnecessary addition to an already horrific tale. However, it seemed unfair to let Minerva believe a lie.

"You're always so full of questions," he smiled. "The _man_ I loved fled the scene as soon as _he_ realized what happened. That was the end of it."

She went quiet at his revelation, and more than ever, he wondered what went through her mind.

"Well," she finally spoke. "That explains the pretty bonnets, at least."

There was a hint of amusement in her voice and expression which let him know that she shouldn't be taken seriously. However, Albus knew something was out of place. He knew her to be a very opinionated person, so he'd hoped for a more eloquent response.

He then realized that his distress was apparent, and it was doubly so for someone as perceptive as Minerva. He guessed she didn't want to further upset him, and used humor -his very own method- to lighten the mood.

"Minerva, I'm sorry if those revelations have disturbed you..."

"They haven't."

"...but I wanted you to understand what I meant. You've never let your brilliance blind you or let your intellectual superiority make you believe that you have power, and that you shall use it. That's why I think you're the better person."

"You've done your best to mend your mistakes and share your gift with the world," she ardently defended him. "You've performed great acts for humankind. I know I'm intelligent, Professor - I'm not one to fake modesty. I'm not a bad person, but I'm not as selfless to use that intelligence for the greater good." She bit her lip as soon as she'd finished talking, which made him think that she'd used Gellert's motto unintentionally.

Yet, the greater good she was alluding to was quite clear, for the duel between him and his old love was what had made him famous. He had faced his fear of him, and went on to defeat him _for the greater good._

It wasn't the duel that had shaken him the most, but the fear that Gellert would reveal who had killed Ariana. He wanted to believe that he didn't disclose that truth because he still held some affection for him. Gellert had called him by his name quite as naturally as he did, in a manner that hadn't been mocking. He seemed to genuinely want to catch up before the inevitable.

It had been more than ten years since then, and that was the last time he'd ever see him. He should've felt at peace, but he didn't. He felt he fulfilled an obligation, one out of many, and that it was just a tiny fraction of what was expected of him.

He'd wanted power in his youth, yet he'd become a slave.

"Selflessness has nothing to do with my pursuit of noble goals. I've done it because -forgive my arrogance- I'm the man that best fits the job. It's not altruism, but a sense of duty." He paused to let his words sink in. "You're twenty-one, you've got nothing to regret... Is there a more selfless, giving profession than the one you chose, Professor McGonagall?"

He could see that such a respectful address had startled her. It took a while for her to respond, and he noticed that she was picking her words carefully.

"Professor, don't believe I'm trying to make light of what you went through, or what you've done. I know I'm fortunate - I have led a happy life so far, though many things to remain a mystery to me. Regret, for instance, is something I don't remember feeling and I don't understand how it works. I can tell you deeply regret your past, though you can't change it. But I know enough, and I realize you changed what you could - that is, yourself.

"Yet, you seem to think I'll hold you accountable for mistakes you made half a century ago. It flatters me that you care for my opinion, and if you truly do, consider it unchanged. I mean, I'm a different person than I was _three _years ago - what makes you think you're the same person you were at seventeen? What makes you think that you can be judged by those standards?"

The fact that she was showing loyalty and appreciation, even after learning his dark past, humbled him.

"Professor McGonagall..."

"To what do I owe such formality?"

"To the fact that I was wrong - this is indeed the perfect night to receive a lesson from you. I sought a young woman's friendship, hoping to offer comfort and wisdom in times of personal distress. I never thought I'd be the one to receive them."

She smiled, and it was the first genuine smile he'd seen in her that evening.

"Well, Professor..."

"To what do I owe such formality?"

It took her many seconds to rephrase.

"Well, _Albus_, I'm always glad to install some common sense into people in desperate need of it."

He smiled back at her, letting a comfortable silence set in between the two of them. It didn't last long, for he heard the familiar noise of a stomach grumbling.

"Forgive my rudeness. I forgot you haven't eaten yet."

"I have some biscuits in my office. I don't think..."

"Nonsense. We're going to the kitchens to get you a proper meal. I know -_everyone _knows- that you can't go to bed without a proper meal. Even your pupils were wondering why you were missing. In fact, I stumbled upon the most interesting theories."

Mirthful laughter escaped Minerva's lips. Albus thought that he was indeed glad to have her by his side.

"Do tell. You know very well that I love those."

* * *

_Notes:__ I really wanted to end this in a happy note - they're both too wise to stay miserable for long._

_This was going to be an Albus/Gellert, then I added McGonagall in and I started fangirling over her, for she's my absolute favorite. I was suddenly struck by the need to write about young!Minerva. I never had such a hard time writing a piece, for I'm writing about two characters that are wittier and more knowledgeable than myself. Young!Minerva is a challenge. I understand why I couldn't find any stories about her (and if you do know some, feel free to recommend.)_

_This was written in Finnick Odair's honor for the 'The Hunger Games - Fanfic Style' competition. Out of the given prompts, I used the pairing, the setting, the genre, the emotion and the word._

_Thanks to the wonderful **ladyoftheknightley** for beta-reading this story!_

_If you stuck until the end, well, thanks for reading! Please do offer some feedback :)_

_-Karyn._


End file.
